This year's OMM was in the Howgills, a range of hills that I admit I didn't know existed. (I don't feel too bad about that. I have spent the last few months telling people that the event is in the Howgills and 90% of them responded "Where's that?"!) The Howgills are, as we discovered, a beautiful actually a lovely range of hills in Cumbria, just south east of the Lake District proper, bounding the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Rounded hilltops and grassy ridges, separated by deep cut valleys, spreading in a 7 mile triangle north of Sedburgh, the hills are almost entirely free of man made features. No fences, few walls and just a few trig points make them feel very natural and open.
Pete and I drove up from Hampshire on Friday morning, having spent an hour or so doing final kit selection and food juggling. The drive up was slow, with heavy traffic, but we got to Sedburgh at about 6 ish, just as it was getting dark. We parked the car in the camping field and quickly got the tent up and threw our stuff inside, before walking the km or so to the event centre at Sedburgh School.
We went through the usual formalities of registering, signing the forms that said it was all our fault and getting the blibber taped to Pete's wrist. Then we looked around the shop and managed not to buy anything except a souvenir T shirt. Next stop was the canteen, where we had some of Wilf's excellent vegetarian chilli and some cake and flapjacks to set us up for the next day.
As we got back to the tent it started to snow proper snow, which was a nice touch, and showed how cold it was going to be. A last minute packing of bags (with the odd extra warm layer in) and we got into big thick sleeping bags. A few sips of whiskey and off to sleep.
We had an 0753 start, so needed to be away from the campsite by 0700 for the 2km walk to the start. That meant on 0600 alarm, to give us time to have breakfast and pack up before we set off. It was a beautiful morning. Crystal clear sky, studded with stars. And very cold!
A brew of high energy chocolate got us going, and then we made porridge while we packed up. Everything took longer than expected and we ended up eating our porridge (from two cardboard mugs) on the way to the start line. As we walked I realised I still had my Rab Generator Jacket on. Too late to get changed now, so I kept it on and was very glad of the extra insulation while we were standing around waiting for the start in the stiff cold northerly breeze blowing off the hills.
0753 was called, and we entered that start lane. Then we were off. Day 1 maps in hand we started up the long hill through the fields towards the start proper, walking like nearly everyone else.
The first control was close, but on the other side of a steep valley. We opted to walk a bit further up to make best use of the contours, and then turned to descend into the chasm and climb out of the other side. (This became a familiar theme!) As we stopped to sort clothes, one of the maps escaped and shot off in the wind. I chased it for a few paces of futile running and then watched it disappear over the hills back towards the start line. Never mind - one map would do!
We had a bit of trouble finding the first control, but were soon on the long northerly leg towards the next one. The scenery was breathtaking as we slogged up a ridge and then jogged along the tops towards The Calf. Crystal clear and surrounded by steep valleys and rounded hilltops. From The Calf it was a downhill leg of about 2 km to the next control, on a long spur surrounded by deep valleys. From there, we would have to choose five controls out of the next seven. Every route offered a deep drop followed by a steep climb followed by a deep drop followed by ... We selected a route and set off down the steep end of the spur into the valley and along the valley floor by the river to the next control. From there we followed a stream up a 200m climb with a 1 in 2 slope. We were both slow, and overtaken by many teams as we went up. Pete was in a lot of pain, but made it over the top and down the other side. A short level stretch by the river in the valley and then another 150m climb. Pete was by now getting slow and hurting.
At the top of that rise we had our picture taken, and discussed pulling out, as Pete wasn't sure he could make the rest of the day, let alone doing it again on Sunday. But we slogged on, across aboulder field and down to the next checkpoint. We climbed 50 yards above that one, and sat down for a rest. Faced with another 200m climb, we decided to cut our losses and retire. We weren't going to get round the course, and there was no point in prolonging the pain.
We headed down to the nearest road, about 2.5 miles across the moors, and started the 7 mile walk back to the event centre. After a couple of miles a car pulled over, heading the other way. It was a couple of the organisers, and they offered to give us a lift (after they'd delivered something to the overnight camp, a couple of miles past where we'd started walking). On the way we picked up a couple of girls who had retired too, and they crammed into the car. We got to the overnight camp, and were soon heading in the right way again. But as we passed the point where we'd started walking, there was a guy there who was seriously poorly, so Pete and I got out to let him have a lift. An hour and two miles walking, and we were back where we started! But a few minutes later we were picked up by another organiser (actually the new event director, who will take over next year) and after another trip to the overnight camp, we got back to a quiet event centre.
We checked in, returned the blibber and had something to eat, feeling a bit of a fraud with a competitor's food ticket. More Wilf's chilli and relaxing over tea. Then a walk back to the car. We pondered camping there, but the weather was turning, or staying in a hotel. In the end we decided to drive home, and after a quick look at Kendal we hit the M6 and drove south.
It was a disappointing end to months of training, but Pete and I were not too dispirited. We were a team, and we didn't make it. We'd missed a wet overnight camp and a soggy Day 2, and were returning with dry gear.
There is always next year.
357 days to go!
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